A wise man once said "All good things must come to an end."
I often wondered if that was really true.
I have been beating myself up over my little deaths...breakup, divorce, losses great and small...regret...
And that is what they have come to, little deaths.
But how many times must one die to achieve the greater good?
I've played many parts in this life, the non beliver, the saint, the bitch, The mother, the child, the slayer, the lover, the tower and the tomb.
But where does all of this lead to?
I am in a living paradox...the loves me loves me not sort of romantic,
I'm tired of letting my character be my destiny, because I have played too many parts in this life, and broken too many bonds to count.
And from all of this, I forgot to say that I was sorry,
I'm sorry I never kissed you, I'm sorry I never told you how I felt, I'm sorry that I wasn't there when the tides turned and the battles were lost or won. I'm sorry to the mother, the son, the lover, the sister, the leper and the father, the sights, the smells and the blinding light that swells brightest in sleep. I'm sorry I have never been my true self. I'm sorry I was never there for you.
Forgiveness, they say, is where it all starts.
If you can forgive me, perhaps I can forgive me.
I've blown it one to many times. And I'm tired of chalking up the score one to nothing.
Instincts, are the root.
My roots never got the chance to be planted, so where does that leave me?
The regret and the lonlieness eats me from the inside, and no, I'm not being emo here, you haven't been in my shoes, and when you've walked the first mile in them, remember that there is more to follow.
Judge me, though justly. I have been no saint these last years.
I am willing to fight for more than I'm willing to admit.
I've just lost my comrades along the way.
Perhaps I was always meant to fight alone.
Though, I am the deserter instead of the desertee.
I'm trapped behind the four chambers of my heart, and though my fists have grown tired and my body weary of the struggle,
I will keep the rhythm beating.
You may never know me, but know that I am not long gone.
The little girl you once knew is here, and she's listening.
Believe in her, and she will believe in you.